


The One With The Bet

by cakeby_thepound



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:51:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeby_thepound/pseuds/cakeby_thepound
Summary: A friendly wager between lovers turns into all out war when both parties refuse to give in.(Richonne two-shot.)





	1. All's Fair In Sex And War

"I'm so exhausted," Maggie huffed, claiming a seat at the Grimes' dining table while she waited for her friend to join her. "I don't know if it's just the baby or the weather, but after about an hour out there, I am just done."

Michonne shortly followed behind her, toting a tray of hot water and tea, setting it on the table as she smiled sympathetically at her buddy. "It's probably both."

"Well then I'm ready for this to be over," she rolled her eyes. "I used to really enjoy farming. It was a perfect escape. And now I totally dread it."

"Yeah, pregnancy will definitely make you hate things you used to love," Michonne smirked. "But it'll pass."

"I'm over it." She began to pour hot water for the two of them, while Michonne placed a homemade scone on each of their plates.

"If you need some help, I'm always here, you know."

She smiled back at her warmly; thankfully. "I do know that."

"Or you can always tell Rick you need a break," Michonne offered, her eyebrows raised questioningly. She was certain Maggie was too proud for such a thing - they were alike in that way - but she had to put it out there. "Maternity leave didn't cease to exist just because the world did."

"Glenn said the same thing," she immediately shook her head. "So I'll tell you the same thing I told him: You know that's not gonna happen."

Michonne glanced back at her in amusement as she steeped her tea. "I do."

"I swear I didn't come over here to complain." She let out a long, exasperated exhale, running her hand over her tired face. "What's goin' on with you today?"

"You totally come over here to complain," she yawned. "Which is fine, because I was gonna stop by your house on my way back from the pantry to complain myself."

Maggie held back a smile, quickly chewing and swallowing a piece of her pastry before asking, "About some _one_ , or some _thing_?"

"Some thing."

"Dammit," she sighed. "I miss the days when we had all the gossip. We've gotten boring in our old age, Michonne."

"Speak for yourself."

"I'm serious. We're just boring and married now, and we suck."

"I'm not married," Michonne reminded her teasingly.

"Close enough."

"Even so, I'm quite happy with my boring life. After everything we've been through the past couple years, we needed some boring."

"Can't argue with you there," Maggie had to admit. She dipped her scone into her drink, and took another bite as she gazed back at her friend. "So what'd you wanna complain about?"

"Let me preface this by saying that it's kind of ridiculous," Michonne started as she sipped her tea.

"Even better."

"So…" She sighed, shaking her head, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling at the thought of what she was about to reveal, "Rick and I are in the middle of this bet," she confessed, "and I'm very much starting to regret it."

Maggie's bright green eyes widened as she set her mug back on the table. "Tell me this bet isn't over what I think it is."

"That… depends on what you think it is?"

"I'm thinkin' it's the one where you wager on who can go without sex longer?" She winced when she thought of the time she'd done that with Glenn, back at the prison. Longest week of her life. "Tell me it's not that."

Michonne wrinkled her nose and groaned wearily. "That's the one."

"Michonne!"

"I know!"

"Why would you do this to us," Maggie whined. "You know I'm in no position to get laid right now. How dare you willingly give up your source of regular sex?"

"I know," she repeated, hanging her head in shame. "But in my defense, I did not think Rick would last this long. Not even _close_ to this long. And now I'm stuck, because there is no fucking way I'm losing this bet," she said through gritted teeth. "But god, I miss him."

"So... you thought he was gonna give in easily?" She narrowed her eyes, confused, as she picked another scone from the collection between them. "We are talking about Rick Grimes, aren't we?"

"I mean, not _easily_ , but... certainly easier than this."

"How long has it been?" she wondered.

Michonne sighed, hating to even say the words out loud; not wanting to admit how far this whole thing had actually gone. "Eleven days."

"Eleven?"

"Eleven."

"Eleven days..."

Michonne shared in Maggie's disbelief, given the fact that she and Rick were the type to get it in twice a day sometimes. "And what's pissing me off the most? I'm at the point where I wanna pull my hair out, and Rick is just walking around all blasé about it." She rolled her eyes again, absentmindedly breaking her pastry into tiny pieces and stuffing them into her mouth. "I don't understand how he's doing this."

"Maybe he's been... takin' care of himself?" Maggie offered.

"According to our rules, that's not allowed," she shook her head. "And I don't think he would cheat."

"Jesus..."

"I know." Michonne exhaled in frustration once more, staring into her teacup as if it contained the solution to her problem. "I'm so over this."

"Then just lose," she shrugged. "When Glenn and I did this, I just gave in. I'm still here."

"This, coming from the same woman that's seven months pregnant and won't give herself a break in the summer heat?"

Maggie chuckled at the fact that she was being rather hypocritical. "That's different."

"It's exactly the same," she retorted. "Pride is a bitch."

"So is not gettin' laid..."

It was Michonne's turn to laugh, as truer words could not have been spoken. After two years without sex, she knew all too well just how bad it could get, and what a relief it'd been to not have that problem since she and Rick got together. "That's true, too," she granted. "But there has to be some way to end this without me being the loser."

"Loser is the first one to consent?"

Michonne nodded as she took another sip of her tea. "Yep."

"And is there a rule against nudgin' him in that direction? Maybe just sit in his lap and see what happens?"

"I don't know that that wouldn't kill me first," she giggled. "But I get where you're going."

"All's fair in sex and war?" Maggie grinned mischievously.

Michonne replied with an equally impish smile, hoping this would somehow be the answer to her problems. She and Rick were so annoyingly strong-willed, this bet could go on forever if she didn't do _something_. And since waiting him out didn't seem to be working, maybe – hopefully – her boyfriend just needed a little push. She held up her mug in salute to her best friend and her bright idea. "Wish me luck."

* * *

It was later that night, once dinner was complete and the kids were off to bed, Michonne decided that she would make her move. As she washed up the remaining pots and pans from Rick's cooking, she had time to think about what could work on someone like him - a man with the apparent willpower of a saint, from what she could tell. She couldn't be too obvious about what she was doing, or he would only dig in more.

"Rick," she called out to him as she finished putting away the last few dishes. She could see him in the living room, staring at something on their laptop.

"Yeah," he answered, sounding distracted.

If she didn't know any better, she would think he was looking at porn. "Did you want any dessert? We have some pound cake, cherry sorbet, or there are still a couple of the popsicles I made Sunday."

It took a moment for him to decide, and after a few beats, he replied, "I'll have some cake."

"Yeah, I bet you will," Michonne muttered to herself as she retrieved a small plate for him. She swiftly moved around the kitchen, uncovering the delicacy Carol had baked for them, and prepared a generous slice for her boyfriend, complete with a fork and a napkin. She grabbed something for herself and padded into the living room, where he'd been waiting. "So what are we watching tonight," she questioned, handing over his dessert.

"Thank you," he returned, closing his laptop to give her his attention. He watched her pass by, a popsicle stuffed in her mouth as she pulled her hair into a high ponytail, and he instantly felt his dick move. It was an unexpected response, to say the least, and he inhaled sharply at the sensation. "Shit," he whispered to himself.

Michonne pulled the frozen treat from her mouth as she sat down beside him, staring over at him suspiciously. "What's wrong with you?"

He had to play it off, as he couldn't let her know that ten days without sex was clearly getting to him in the worst way. "Nothin'," he shook his head and began to pile cake into his mouth. "I was just thinkin' of somethin' we could watch."

"Oh," she smirked, beginning to lick her dessert. She wondered if her plan had already started working before she even sat down. The phallic nature of a popsicle, paired with her tying her hair up - something she always did when she gave him a blow job - was bound to remind him of all those times she'd sucked him off. She was counting on that. But she had barely even gotten started yet and he was acting strangely. She was starting to think maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all. "So you wanna keep going with The Wire?" she posed, beginning to lick at the dripping dessert.

Rick purposely kept his eyes on his plate as he nodded back in reply. "All right."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," he said, stuffing his mouth with another bite of the apple butter pound cake. He grabbed the remote to turn on the television, but Michonne had gotten up to find the next DVD in the set, and she was still sucking on that popsicle like it was about to cum in her mouth. Rick couldn't look away at that point, watching the way she rolled her tongue around the length of it, then pushed it all the way into her mouth. As she walked back toward the sofa, he noticed some of the strawberry juice had dribbled down her chin, and he nearly stopped breathing altogether.

"You all right?" she wondered once more, taking her seat again. She sat closer to him then, as they usually ended up cuddling when they watched TV together. But this time, Rick moved away from her when she drew near. "What the hell are you doing?"

He only smirked as he sat his laptop and empty cake plate on their coffee table. "I know what you're doin', Michonne. And it's not gonna work."

"What am I doing?" she frowned, feigning innocence. She took a bite off the top of her popsicle and smiled at him sweetly.

"Just get on your side of the couch," he instructed, pointing to the end opposite of him.

"Rick..."

"Don't talk to me until you finish that thing."

Michonne laughed out loud, realizing just how hot and bothered he was by her little show, and it only made her want to tease him more. "So you really don't miss this?"

He sighed again, trying to force himself not think about it. Her hot, wet mouth, deep-throating his cock. The way she massaged his balls as she blew him. Of course he missed it. He glanced over at her, but had to instantly look away, for fear of giving in. "All I know is that you put me up to this, and there's no fuckin' way I'm lettin' you win."

Michonne rolled her eyes as she defeatedly bit off the last piece of her popsicle from its stick. It was clear that this was definitely not going to be easy.

* * *

After another long, sexless night, Rick awoke the next morning feeling more frustrated than ever. Their little bet had moved into its twelfth day, and it was threatening to be the death of him. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to last, especially if Michonne was going to play dirty the way she did the night before. Trying to keep sex off his mind was difficult enough, but ignoring an obvious ploy to get him to break was a whole other ballgame. He obviously needed to get to her before she could get to him, and he had been waiting all night for the opportunity to do so.

Meanwhile, Michonne had already rolled out of bed at her usual time of 6:00am, and she was in the bathroom, readying herself for her impending day. Or trying to, anyway. She stood at the bathroom sink for minutes on end, supposedly brushing her teeth, but mostly just thinking about Rick. The night before, she had a dream that they finally ended their silly bet and it was the best sex they'd ever had in their ten months together. There was rain, and sloppy kissing, and car fucking, and it was pretty close to perfect. But alas, it was just a dream, and she was still horny as ever, clinging desperately to her pride. But as she stood there extending last night's fantasy into a daydream, there was a hard knock at the bathroom door that thankfully startled her from her wandering thoughts.

"Michonne?" It was Rick.

"Yeah?" Without another word, he pushed the door open and stepped inside with her, and she smiled at the sight of him. He was pretty damn adorable, all disheveled and groggy, with his curls matted to his forehead. "Hey."

"Hey." He planted a soft kiss on her shoulder as he moved past her, headed for the shower.

Michonne looked on in confusion as he proceeded to turn on the shower water as if she weren't still occupying the bathroom. "What's… happening here?"

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked, turning back to her as he pulled off his t-shirt. "I have a meeting with Glenn in fifteen minutes. I'll be quick."

She frowned when his taut torso came into view and she turned back for the sink, continuing to brush her teeth. "You should've woken up earlier then," she mumbled.

"I forgot that you like to wake up at the crack of dawn."

"You are not about to blame this on me," she retorted, pointing her toothbrush in his direction. "I get up at the same time every day."

"I know," Rick smirked to himself. In fact, he was counting on that as he knocked on the bathroom door. "I also knew you wouldn't mind."

"Oh, you just know me so well."

He slowly stepped out of his boxer shorts and tested the water one last time before turning back to Michonne. "You think I don't?"

Her breath caught in her throat when Rick faced her fully naked. And while she only had a split second to take him in before he stepped into the shower stall, it was more than enough to make her lightheaded when she was already starving. She'd missed that body of his more than words could say; something about the way he stood, all cocky and bowlegged, made her actually weak in the knees. She wasn't even sure of what they'd been talking about anymore. "What?" she asked, swallowing hard.

"What?" he called back.

"Nothing." She pulled out her floss in another feeble attempt to concentrate on herself, but her eyes had drifted back to that steamy shower, and she was both relieved and annoyed that the fog was concealing most of Rick's body. The silhouette might've been even more tantalizing, if that were possible.

"You know, I've been thinkin'," Rick called out to her over the running water, "remember how we used to have parties whenever new people arrived here?"

Michonne had a mouth full of floss but she responded, nearly unintelligibly, "Yeah..."

"Well we haven't had any new arrivals lately, so we haven't had any parties lately."

"Uh huh..."

"So what do you think about having some kinda get-together for the Safe Zone sometime soon?" he wondered. "Maybe some sort of cookout?"

Michonne glanced in his direction, much to her dismay, as she ended up getting an eyeful of Rick's dick, after she tried so hard to put it out of her mind. "What?" she asked, once again.

"Are you all right over there?"

"I'm fine," she grimaced, feeling rather shaky on the concept of being fine at that moment. "I just didn't hear what you said."

He pushed open the shower door, giving Michonne the full view she was so vehemently trying to avoid. "I asked if you think we should have a party sometime soon. In the next week or so, maybe?"

She bit her bottom lip unexpectedly hard, dropping her floss to the floor in the process. His dick wasn't even erect, but it was staring at her, and she was finding it impossible not to stare back. She needed to get out of there. "Whatever you want," she returned, her hand already fumbling with the doorknob. "Yeah."

"You're sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, it's just..." Her sentence trailed into silence as she escaped the increasingly steamy room, leaving Rick behind, in all his naked glory. "...hot in there."

Rick couldn't help but smile devilishly to himself as his girlfriend slammed the door behind her.

* * *

"Hello?" Rick stepped back into his home after a long, hot day under the sun, somewhat surprised to find the place was just about silent. Almost eerily so, considering he usually found Carl laid across the couch playing some video game or another, while Judith sat on the floor giggling, thinking she was playing along. Instead, the place was empty and spotless, and all he could hear was the faint sound of something whirring in the background - a fan, he figured.

"I'm here," Michonne chirped, her voice reaching the front door from the kitchen. "Hey."

"Hey," he called back. From where he stood, he could see her at the sink, splashing her face with water, and given the heat wave they were experiencing, he was strongly considering joining her. "Where are the kids?"

"Carl is spending the night at Ron's, and… Maggie wanted to hang out with Judith," she explained, grabbing a dishtowel to wipe her face. "I said she could keep her for the night if she wanted to, but… I have a feeling she won't want to," she grinned, turning to face her boyfriend.

He nodded as he entered the kitchen to join her, noting that the oven was on, dinner presumably inside, but that wasn't what had him hot under the collar. It was Michonne, standing there in a white tank top, with water trickled down the front so he could easily see that she wasn't wearing a bra. And in those tight pants she was so fond of wearing, she might as well have not been wearing any panties either. "What's for dinner?" he asked, attempting to look anywhere but in in her direction. Her nipples were starting to perk up, which always turned him on beyond reason, and he knew he was going to be a dead man soon.

"We're having Côtelette de volaille à la Kiev," she answered proudly, considering she'd done the extensive prep work, got it into the oven, and cleaned the kitchen, all before Rick made it home. As far as she was concerned, she deserved to win this bet just for that. "Or as you may know it, Chicken Kiev."

Rick sighed at the fact that she had the nerve to speak French, knowing just how much he loved it. It was bad enough he was on the verge of combustion, and here she was, casually throwing this in his face over her wet t-shirt. She was really going all out tonight. "I don't know what either of those are," he replied, heading for the refrigerator.

"Seriously?"

"Never had it before."

"Well you'll like it," she promised, watching him saunter to their fridge. "It's essentially just chicken and garlic and butter. The butter squirts everywhere…"

He took another deep, tense breath at the mere mention of squirting, his mind going haywire with dirty thoughts, and he suddenly forgot why he'd walked over there. "Sounds good," was all he could say in return.

"Hey, while we're waiting for dinner, I thought I could give you a haircut," she declared, moving across the large space to meet him. As much as she liked his curls long, especially in the back, they were starting to get a bit out of hand. "You look like the guy that showed up at Alexandria a year ago," she grinned, combing her fingers through the curls at his nape.

He smirked at the memory while he felt comforted by her soft touch. "At least I don't have the beard."

"Well yeah, you wouldn't be living in my house if you did," she joked. She left a quick kiss on his cheek, realizing they hadn't properly greeted one another yet, and then she patted his back. "Come. It's all set up in the bathroom."

"You sure you wanna do this now?" He reluctantly followed after her, but he knew that this was going to be the most torturous haircut of his life. Her hairdressing generally came with close contact and her breasts in his face for prolonged periods of time. Which was why they usually ended up fucking right there in the bathroom before she could finish. And now, because of this stupid bet, he would have to just sit there and take it.

"Oh, I'm sure," Michonne was grinning. She led him to their downstairs bathroom, where, indeed, she had a chair set up just in front of the sink, along with her equipment – a razor, shears, combs, shampoo, and a towel, along with their iPod dock for music.

Rick swallowed visibly at the sight – despite knowing it was all an elaborate trap, it was still going to be difficult not to fall right in. He figured his best move was probably to just play along. And in truth, he was rather impressed that she'd gotten all of this ready in addition to preparing dinner and cleaning up and likely a hundred other things he was unaware of. He liked this homemaking thing she'd taken on almost as much as he enjoyed watching her kick ass outside the house. "What aren't you good at?" he wondered out loud, already moving to claim his seat.

"I'm bad at losing," she quipped, immediately onto his game. By the time he got comfortable, she was already leaned over him, turning on the water as she ran her fingers through the top of sweat-dampened hair. "Tilt your head back," she instructed.

He did as he was told, lifting his head so that it settled into the basin beneath him, but mostly, he'd ended up getting a gander at her tits jiggling beneath her shirt as she lathered shampoo in her hands. He quickly closed his eyes before he found himself in a trance, but the damage was already done. He was already envisioning having them in his mouth as she fucked him in that very chair, and his dick was responding to the enticing image. "Fuck," he quietly sighed.

"What's wrong?" she casually asked, though she could guess the answer when she looked down and saw his eyes squeezed shut.

"It's nothin'."

"Is the water too hot?"

"Water's good," he mumbled. Of course, considering how hot he was, he likely wouldn't have noticed one way or the other.

Michonne smirked at his terse response as she went on to shampoo his hair, working the suds through his long curls as he twisted beneath her touch. "So how was your day?"

Rick opened his eyes to respond, because he always looked at her when they spoke with one another, but he instantly regretted it when he got the exact same view he had been trying to avoid. He covered his eyes with his hand and tried to picture innocuous things like puppies and flowers and literally anything but Michonne's delicious glistening skin under his tongue as he licked her in spots that would make her squirm. "Maybe we shouldn't talk while we do this."

"All right," she shrugged. Still amused, she continued to the next step of rinsing his hair, massaging the soap from his scalp while he let out a series light moans in response. She hadn't even gotten to the haircut yet, and she could tell she was driving him just a little bit crazy. She only hoped he was getting hard too, so maybe she could win this bet once and for all.

He sat there silently as she lifted his head to towel-dry his hair. She seemed to be moving in purposely slow motion, patting his head in long, soft strokes as though she was working a different head than the one on his neck. He was generally turned on by her touch anyway, but in his current state, it was utterly aphrodisiacal. "Should probably make this quick so dinner doesn't burn," he suggested.

"Don't worry, I've got it on a timer." She lightly tapped his shoulder, silently directing him to turn his chair facing the mirror, and she draped the towel over his shoulders. And as she began to comb through his hair, she couldn't help but notice the pained expression on his face, which made her laugh out loud. "You look miserable, Rick."

He finally allowed himself to open his eyes, knowing she was standing behind him, but those perfect breasts were still taunting him in the mirror's reflection. "I'm fine," he insisted, though unable to stop himself from licking his lips.

"You could end this all by just giving in," she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes at her peppy tone, which only made him want to double down in his stubbornness. "You could stand here and cut my hair naked," he contended, being purposely provocative. "I'm not losin' this bet, Michonne."

She quirked an eyebrow at him and his defiant tone, sorely tempted to test that theory. Considering he was aroused while she was fully – albeit strategically – clothed, she was genuinely curious whether his willpower was that strong. Because she was certain hers wasn't. "I _hate_ how stubborn you are," she commented, beginning to snip away at the back of his hair.

"Yeah, well. Pot meet kettle," he smirked. His eyes stayed on her as she combed through his curls in sections, trimming inches from them swiftly and skillfully. "How short are you cutting it?" He reached back to feel his hair, noting that her scissors seemed to be moving rather quickly back there.

"Hey," she swatted his hand with her comb and then circled the chair so that she was facing him. "You should know that I know what I'm doing by now," she chided him, carefully examining the top of his head.

"It just sounded like a lot of cutting." He grinned at how solemn she'd suddenly become, obviously taking her job seriously, and he tried his best to do the same, keeping his eyes on her face as she moved in to part his hair. But she had gotten so close, she was practically straddling him, and his gaze drifted back to her décolletage, having a perfect view down her tank top, all while inhaling her scrumptious cocoa butter scent. Before he knew what was happening, his hands were on her hips and pulling her into his lap.

Michonne immediately stopped fussing with his hair, looking down on him while he looked down her shirt, his face so close she could feel his facial hair against her skin. And she could feel his bulge between her legs, taunting her as it went rock hard under her weight. She let out a light gasp, because this was tempting as fuck, and she hated how much she wanted to give in at that moment. And while they hadn't actually established a rule about a thing like this, she still felt like it had to go against them. "Rick," she swallowed hard, her fingers squeezing the wet curls at his nape.

He rolled his neck upward, his lips grazing her chest as he lifted his head to gaze at her beautiful face, glistening with the sheen of sweat. It was impossibly hot in their home, both literally and now figuratively, thanks to the sexual tension between them. "Yeah?"

She inhaled again, trying desperately to take her mind off the fact that this could be the end of this ridiculous bet, that she could get laid in time for dinner, if she would just give up. But she shook those thoughts away in favor of her pride, and she moved in close to whisper in his ear. "Unless you're giving in, I need you to let me up."

Rick could only smile in reply, because on some level, he really loved her tenacity, even if he _hated_ it in the moment. Of course, that was the danger of falling in love with someone just like himself. He released her from his grip, allowing her to resume the haircut, much to his dismay, while her tits went back to bouncing in his face. Her nipples were about as hard as he was, protruding through the fabric of her shirt, and he wanted nothing more than to suck them out of it, devouring her dinner. "How much longer?"

"I don't know," Michonne frowned, frustratedly flipping his hair out of her way. She knew he was referring to the haircut, which she was trying her best to speed through at that point. Because she knew she couldn't stand over him much longer, not when the imprint of his dick in his jeans was unavoidable - his erect length pressed against his left thigh, the outline of the head clear as day. She was literally salivating as she tried and failed not to look, and she had no idea how she was going to get through dinner, much less the rest of the night, without jumping on top of him. But she knew she was damn sure going to try.


	2. Even If You Lose, You Still Win

It was just after midnight as Rick found himself in the middle of his flourishing farm, gazing around proudly at all the progress he'd made with it in the last several months. To the point where he had the luxury of picking through an assortment of fruits for his family's breakfast in the morning, even if his sole reason for being out there in the middle of the night was to avoid his girlfriend. All of it was a reminder of what a strange, beautiful life he'd come to have.

"Rick, what the hell are you doing?"

The sound of Glenn's hushed voice startled him from his musings, and he turned back to his friend with his full grocery basket, noticing that Glenn was re-sheathing his knife. "Oh, hey," he greeted him casually.

"Yeah, hey," he frowned back at his leader and best friend, particularly confused by his choice of attire - a t-shirt and boxers, topped off with a pair of yellow flip-flops that likely belonged to Michonne. "Are you... high right now?"

"What?" he chuckled, confused by the query. "No."

"Then why the fuck are you picking fruit at one in the morning," he hissed back at him. "I thought you were a walker."

"Oh," Rick nodded, scratching his fingers through the back of his head, realizing he probably did look rather crazy out there. But then, that wasn't far from the truth after twelve sexless days, and now he had Michonne actively working to get him to break. "It's a little rough at home right now."

"Since when?" he grimaced in concern this time, wondering when and what happened. From what he knew about Rick's life, which was quite a bit, there hadn't been a whole lot wrong as of late.

"Since Michonne and I somehow ended up in a bet that doesn't allow us to have sex," he revealed with a sigh, gazing into the distance at his own house.

Glenn's eyes and mouth widened as he came to understand exactly what was happening here. "Oh, man."

"And she keeps doin'... things to get me to break," he added, shaking his head, thinking about her in their bed at that very moment, naked from head to toe. It got so hot in their room, and not because of the actual temperature, he knew he would never get to sleep. "I needed some air."

"You could just lose, you know."

Rick immediately cut his eyes in his friend's direction, not taking kindly to his choice of words. "If I were interested in that, I would've done it twelve days ago."

"You've been at this for _twelve_ days?" Glenn nearly shouted. "Dude."

"I know."

"You know what? Maggie and I did this once. It lasted maybe a week?" He was questioning his own accuracy, but figured it didn't matter much. "Point being, when we finally ended it, it was probably the best sex we'd ever had in our lives," he chuckled in recollection. "There were no losers."

He nodded again, albeit obstinately, with his jaw clenched just slightly, still hating the idea of not actually winning. "Logically speaking, I know you're right. But it's also been twelve days, and I just don't like the idea of givin' up now. I wanna win."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Glenn smirked. "But let the record show, you're picking strawberries in your pajamas in the middle of the night to avoid fucking your girlfriend. You've already lost."

Rick let out a low growl, knowing his friend was right, as much as he hated to actually admit it. "You may not know this about me," he said, trading his straightened brow for a smile, "but I can be stubborn sometimes."

"You?" he asked, feigning shock at the notion. "That is brand new information."

He chuckled at Glenn's sarcastic tone and gestured his head in the direction of their home, situated just beside the farm. "How's Maggie?"

"About as well as can be expected for a woman thirty-four weeks into pregnancy while it's nearly ninety degrees at midnight."

Having been through that twice now, both his children being born in late summer, he knew that feeling all too well and nodded sympathetically. "Well we've got plenty of ice if you need it."

"Thanks, but I don't think I'll be at your house for a while," he joked. "Not until well after you've settled your little bet."

"What? Why not?"

"Because my wife is all the crazy I can handle right now."

Rick laughed again, nodding in reluctant agreement as he started to head off toward his home. He wasn't so sure about surrendering so soon, but Glenn had helped put things in a bit of perspective, at least - losing the bet _probably_ wouldn't be the end of the world. "All right, I'll see you tomorrow," he capped off their conversation.

Heading in the opposite direction, Glenn waved him off, but not before calling back to him, "Go have sex with your girlfriend!"

* * *

"Good mornin'."

Michonne glanced back at the sound of Rick's voice as he entered their kitchen, noticing the happy grin plastered on his stupid face, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was so cheerful about. As far as she was concerned, neither one of them would or should be happy until she got some dick. "Is it?"

"I think so." He went to Judith's side of the table, where Michonne was arranging apple slices in her tray, and he left a quick kiss on each of their right cheeks. "It's a beautiful day."

"If you say so," she smirked back, squeezing his hand before he could head back into the kitchen for his morning coffee. She hated that she was utterly enchanted by the sight of him sauntering off, but if there was one intangible thing she loved, it was to watch Rick walk away. "I haven't made breakfast yet," she called after him. "This one decided on apples before I could get started."

"I can start on somethin'," he offered, making his way around the counter. It appeared that Michonne had set out some oats, perhaps for oatmeal, along with a ziplock bag of ground beef, a bowl of eggs and another full of cherries he'd brought home the night before. "What the hell were you gonna make?"

She chuckled, realizing the collection of items on their counter didn't quite make sense as a cohesive meal. "That wasn't breakfast," she promised. "I was trying to figure out how to ration our food for the day."

"Oh, well we're having dinner at Deanna's, so you don't have to work your magic today."

Well that wasn't quite what she wanted to hear - she had plans to work some magic in the bedroom, if nothing else. "Is that so?" she raised an eyebrow as she moved around the table to sit across from Judith. "Why dinner over there?"

"I think she just likes havin' people over." He grabbed the bowl of cherries, taking one for himself as he came to join his girls at the table. "But we're gonna discuss the party, what supplies we need, who's gonna go get them. Stuff like that."

Michonne nodded absently as she wiped Judith's mouth, the two of them giggling at one another as the toddler slobbered over her apple slice. It wasn't until Michonne glanced back at Rick, noting the way he was sucking on that cherry, that she was catapulted back into her reality. "Wait, what party?"

"The one we talked about yesterday?" He laughed at the scowl on her face that said she obviously didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "Do you listen to me at all?"

Well it was certainly difficult to when he was sitting there eating cherries like they were her pussy. Or maybe she was just so horny that everything he did seemed sexual to her. It was bad enough he was wearing her favorite denim shirt, the one that made his eyes look like a summer day and his skin look the way butter pecan ice cream tasted. But now, those fucking lips wrapped around that little red bud was going to be the death of her. She let out a sigh that turned into a groan as she took a frustrated bite of her apple. Another day of this and she really might end up losing this bet.

Rick's eyes narrowed at her strange sound effect as he licked his lips of cherry juice. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you su-"

"Yes," she cut him off, unable to even look in his direction any longer. He was driving her crazy, and she was fairly certain he wasn't even doing it on purpose. It was almost as though he'd forgotten about the bet altogether. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he'd cheated in some form or another. "So we're not gonna talk about you actually leaving the house last night to get away from me?"

"Well you came to bed butt naked," he smirked. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"You could fuck me," she muttered under her breath, taking another bite of her apple. "Where did you even go?"

"Just… outside." He smiled as he noticed Judith reach out for Michonne, obviously wanting to be held by her instead of staying in her high chair. As if he weren't already madly in love with this woman, watching her with their kids always made him stop and take notice. She was so good with them, and it was one of many reasons he fell in love with her in the first place - the way she interacted with Carl. But he realized in seeing her with Judith that he just enjoyed seeing her explore her maternal side. Or perhaps seeing her with a baby made him want to make another one with her. Either way, he was riveted, unable to take his eyes off the two of them as they laughed their way through their breakfast. "Are you busy this mornin'," he wondered out loud, almost hating to interrupt them.

"I'm on duty at ten," Michonne answered, running her fingers through their little one's little curls. "Why?"

Rick shook his head as he glanced at his watch. "You think Olivia can take Judith for the next hour?"

Michonne bit her lip as she looked back at her boyfriend, questioning whether this was the moment. She knew she couldn't trust the gleam in his eye, because her horniness was making her see things that weren't necessarily there. But making plans to get Judith out of the house? What else could it be for but sex? Was he finally giving up? "I don't… know," she answered carefully, not wanting to seem too eager. "Bring me your radio and I can ask her."

Licking his lips, he turned to grab his utility belt from the coffee table, but before he could even reach the living room, Carl came bursting through the front door with his best friend Ron in tow. "Goddamn it," he mumbled to himself.

Michonne's sentiments were the same, another sigh accompanying her own expletive. "Fuck," she whispered almost inaudibly.

"Hey," Carl greeted his family for the first time since the afternoon before, and he couldn't help but notice that only Judith was happy to see him, waving at him as he took a seat at the head of the table. His parents, however, seemed preoccupied, to put it mildly. Glancing back and forth between them, trying and failing to read their expressions, he decided to just ask, "You guys aren't fighting, are you?"

Michonne frowned, unable to remember the last time she and Rick actually had an argument that lasted longer than three minutes. "No?"

"What are you two doin' here?" Rick chimed in, praying to whatever god there was that they weren't planning to stay.

"We're here for breakfast," he answered, his intonation implying that should've been obvious.

"You all don't have food at your house?" he directed to Ron.

"We do," Ron chuckled, taking one of Judith's apples for himself as he settled in next to her chair. "But we wanted Michonne's pancakes."

"Yeah, I did, too," Rick sighed. He gave his girlfriend a glance, hoping she had some creative way to kick their kids out of the house that didn't make them terrible parents. But alas, she was too deep into mom mode to even notice.

"I'll make pancakes, but you're cleaning the kitchen. And you're watching your sister all day," she told Carl.

"Why do I get the feeling I'd be doing that anyway," Carl smirked in reply.

"Because you were."

"Well I guess I'm gonna head on out," Rick announced with a large dose of frustration in his voice. He walked around the table to where Judith and Michonne were sitting, leaning in to leave a short kiss on the top of his daughter's head before looking to his girlfriend. "I'll see you later," he told her. He finished with a kiss to her perfect lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth for a brief but heady liplock, a smile on his face as he pulled back.

Michonne smiled in response, almost forgetting the two teenagers in the room as she cupped his face, not wanting to let him go. He tasted like cherries, and she so desperately wanted to consume him. If he wasn't ready to end this bet, she was almost certain that she was. "You will," she replied pointedly, running her fingers through his hair before he could stand again. "Tonight."

He nodded as he walked away, inwardly reminding himself that he could wait. He'd made it thirteen days, how hard could another few hours be? "Tonight," he promised.

* * *

"So how are you all surviving this weather we've been having?" Deanna grinned warmly at her dinner guests. She thought it was so nice to see everyone dressed in their summer shirts and dresses, even if it was more out of function than fashion. But they looked like they'd been lifted right out of their old lives, and she loved it for them.

As Morgan started to reply, like the polite soul that he was, Michonne glanced over to her boyfriend, who looked about as engaged in the conversation as she was. Which was to say not at all. He was essentially just swirling spaghetti around his fork, with no apparent intent of actually eating any of it, and she wondered if he was thinking about the same things she had; if sex had consumed his mind as much as it had hers throughout the day. She didn't have space for much else at all, to the point where she had mentally blocked out the other people in the room. The conversation was just white noise while she imagined fucking Rick on the couch the very second they got home. Because she was so ready to go, so impatient to rip his clothes off, they wouldn't even be able to make it upstairs. And as she sat there imagining it, the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of her was so palpable, she had to cross her legs to mitigate her reaction to it.

"How much longer do we have to be here?" she leaned into him to whisper.

He tried not to smile, but he had an idea of why she was impatient to leave, and he was in quite the same boat. "We just got here," he replied just as quietly.

"So an hour?" she suggested hopefully, even if she knew that was unreasonable. Deanna's dinner parties tended to drone on forever, complete with poker games for dessert.

"Stop," he chuckled. He knew what she was trying to do, getting him all hot and bothered when it was clear that she was just as ready to end this bet as he was. "We've gone this long," he continued to whisper, "we can wait."

"Oh, _we_ can?" With a frustrated sigh, she pulled away, returning to her dinner and her wandering thoughts. She took a long gulp of wine, chasing it with some ice water as she glanced around the room at everyone else, seemingly enjoying their dinner. The smiles on their faces saying that they were enjoying the conversation, too. How nice it was to not have a million things to worry about, a simple spaghetti dinner with friends being the highlight of the week. Their lives were so mundane, she and Rick had manufactured a problem in their relationship. And she loved it.

"How about you, Michonne?" Deanna came crashing through her thoughts to ask.

She obviously had no idea what was going on, and looked back at their friend like a deer in headlights. "I'm sorry, I missed it," she admitted, setting her glass back on the table.

"Oh, we were talking about the ways we've been surviving this weather," she grinned back at her. "I was just saying how my hot flashes and this heat wave are a killer."

Michonne offered a tense chuckle in response, having no idea how to respond to that. Her preoccupation with getting laid was really stifling her usual charm. "I spent half the day yesterday dousing myself in cold water," she finally added to the conversation as she glanced over at Rick. She was suddenly reminded of how much that affected him, and it made her smile.

"It's been brutal," Rick chimed in. He began to shift in his chair just thinking about her in that wet t-shirt. "Might be best to wait 'til the heat breaks for us to have our party."

"Probably so," Reg agreed from across the table. "It's not like we've got a pool for everyone to jump in."

"It was so hot today, I almost jumped into the pond," Maggie submitted through a mouth full of garlic bread. "I was tryin' to work until the baby came, but I think I gotta tap out," she told Rick, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he was quick to say. "I've been tellin' you to go home for weeks now."

"You lasted much longer than anyone in your position should," Glenn concurred, taking her hand into his.

"Well lots of women work through pregnancy, and I didn't see any reason why I shouldn't."

"Because it's hot as hell," Rick chuckled. He felt Michonne's hand on his shoulder as she moved out of her seat, and he looked back, wondering where she was going.

"I'll be right back," she quietly announced, her fingers lingering on his back before she disappeared from the table.

"So I guess that leaves us one farmer," Deanna realized, smiling back at Rick. "Will you be alright out there by yourself?"

"I think I'll be just fine," he was quick to assure her, knowing she was anxious to help in some other capacity. But the last thing he wanted was Deanna or any of the other Alexandrians on his farm. "Great thing about havin' a teenager is you can make 'em do whatever you want."

"That's true," she pointed back at him. "Although the older my boys got, the _less_ that became true."

"We're probably lucky that Carl's defiant phase was short-lived," Rick chuckled, thinking back to that trying time at the prison. "Should probably knock on wood, but he's been good lately."

"How old is he now?" Reg questioned.

"He'll be sixteen in September."

"Jesus," Glenn piped up, popping a crouton in his mouth. "He was so little when I met him."

"Yeah, well you better get ready for yours to grow like a little weed," Carol warned with a warm smile from her end of the table. "It all goes so fast."

"Too fast," Rick agreed.

"Have you and Michonne thought about going this route," Deanna questioned, gesturing toward the Rhees, and Maggie's growing baby bump, specifically.

He smiled both awkwardly and nervously, unsure of how to reply to the intrusive question. Even if they had, he didn't exactly intend on revealing it to all their friends and neighbors. Hell, for nearly two weeks now, they hadn't even done the thing that would make a baby. They were still just enjoying their relationship. "Well… we're not opposed to it," he cleared his throat. "So maybe one day."

"And what about you two," she animatedly pointed over to Abraham and Sasha.

Rick let out a small sigh, relieved that the focus had shifted to someone else, just as Michonne returned to the table. He felt a quiver shoot down his spine when her fingers grazed the back of his neck before reclaiming her seat. And he couldn't help but notice she moved her chair closer to him as she pulled it back up to the table, which made him smile as he gazed at the side of her face. She was so gorgeous, her skin looking positively radiant against the bright fuschia color of her sundress.

"Hey," she grinned back at him, noting his doting stare. She resisted the urge to kiss him for fear of being unable to stop, but she took his hand beneath the table, waiting for him to notice exactly what she had balled up inside it.

His eyebrow raised as he felt the soft cotton against his palm, and he wondered whether she was passing him a tissue. But he looked down to see the turquoise fabric, and he swallowed visibly as realization struck that he was holding her panties. She already wasn't wearing a bra, much to his delight and chagrin, but knowing she was now naked underneath that dress had him dying inside. "Why are you trying to kill me?" he whispered.

She rested her hand high on his thigh, trying not to obviously smile at the way he tensed at her touch. "What's wrong?"

"You win," he mumbled, picking up his glass to knock back a big swig of wine.

Michonne turned to him in mock surprise, her wanton stare looking him up and down. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Rick's jaw clenched and he swallowed hard once more, knowing he was going to have to listen to her gloat about this forever, once all was said and done. And he probably could've held out for a draw, but he didn't care anymore - he couldn't take any more of the teasing, the torture, especially as he sat there at dinner just trying to hold onto whatever shreds of composure he had left. "You win," he repeated, leaning into her as he stuffed her underwear in his pocket. "But please, let's just get through this." He wasn't quite sure how he was going to do that when his mouth was literally watering as he thought about how she was sitting there with no panties on. How he couldn't _wait_ to get home and fuck her until he couldn't anymore.

"Fine," she grinned, quite satisfied with herself. She tried to resume her meal, all while thinking about what was going to occur in her bedroom in approximately two hours. In fact, she could already feel herself getting wet, her nipples perking up as she pictured it. "I don't even wanna eat anymore," she quietly commented to him, setting down her fork.

"I just wanna eat you," he whispered. The two of them locked eyes as his free hand slowly moved up her thigh until it was beneath her dress, and he didn't stop until he was touching her bare pussy. His forefinger gently grazing her clit, while his ring finger slipped between her lips, finding she was already ready to go. He smirked to himself as she wriggled in response, squeezing her legs together, effectively trapping his hand between her thighs.

"Now you're trying to kill _me_ ," Michonne breathed, closing her eyes as she lowered her head. His long fingers pushed in and out of her, driving her out of her mind, and she was certain she was doing a bad job of pretending nothing was happening.

"What are you two over there gossiping about," Deanna wondered, noticing the lovebirds had gone off to their own little world.

Michonne looked up, unused to being caught off guard, but as Rick's hand slipped out of her, she quickly found her cool and answered before he could guiltily stutter out something nonsensical. "We were just talking about the wine," she grinned, picking up her nearly empty glass. From the corner of her eye, she could see Rick return to his meal, licking his fingers as he did, and she wanted to scream. She loved and hated how dirty he was sometimes. "Rick was asking if we had any of this at home, but I wasn't sure. Is this a Chianti?"

"It is," Deanna grinned. She knew better than to be surprised by Michonne at that point, but the woman never ceased to impress her. "Are you a wine connoisseur, or do you just know something about everything?"

"Oh god. Neither," she chuckled. "I just - I was in Tuscany just before the turn, and I felt like I remembered this taste so vividly."

Rick looked on, both dumbfounded and amazed that his girlfriend was generating an entire conversation out of thin air, all based on a lie. "I like it a lot," he submitted, feebly attempting to keep up with her.

"Well we had a whole case of it, I'll send you home with some," Deanna happily offered. "Reg, when we finish dinner, you make sure to go down to the basement and get them a couple of bottles."

He nodded with his mouth full of spaghetti. "Will do, dear."

"You have a wine cellar?" Michonne wondered, now genuinely invested in the discussion. "How did I miss that?"

"Oh, no no," Reg chuckled, wiping his mouth. "It's essentially just boxes of wine we've collected for parties and such."

"We actually had a very nice one back at our old home in Ohio," Deanna appended, "but this is our post-apocalypse version, I suppose."

The rest of the table laughed, while Michonne looked over to Rick, praying to whatever god there was that he had picked up where she was going with this. "Well if you don't mind, I would love to take a look and see what else you have."

"Of course," she waved away the small gesture as no big deal. "Anytime you want."

She smiled back, figuring she and Rick could sneak away for a bit once the poker game started. And so she tried to finish her food, taking small bites of spaghetti, and taking sips from Rick's wine once she finished her own. But as she sat there practically wetting herself as her juices streamed down her pussy, she knew she was too horny to wait any longer. "So I'm just gonna go look now," she declared, standing from the table.

Rick looked up in confusion, unsure what prompted her to hop out of her chair so suddenly. But as he watched her sway toward the basement, unable to take his eyes off of her dress clinging to her ass, reminding him just how naked she was underneath it, there was no way he could just sit there. "I'm gonna go with her," he said, finishing off his drink before disappearing from the table, too.

* * *

Michonne smiled to herself as the unmistakable sound of Rick's boots pounding against the cement floor filled the room. She had been examining the tables full of boxes of wine, or at least pretending to, under the one dimming light the basement offered. But mostly, she was just waiting for Rick, hoping that he wouldn't leave her hanging down there. Luckily, they tended to operate on the same page, so it didn't take long for him to follow, and finally, their love drought was going to end.

"At first, I wasn't sure what you were doin'," Rick confessed, walking up behind her. He rested his hands on her hips, closing his eyes as she pressed her backside against his crotch, his weeklong perpetual erection growing bigger and harder by the second.

She let out a quiet moan when he reached around the front of her, his right hand snaking beneath her dress to finger her once again. She could hear how wet she was to his touch and he was only making her more so as he slid along her slick folds. His other hand pulled the strap of her dress down her shoulder until her left breast was exposed, and he eagerly squeezed it in his hand. Her nipple rock hard beneath his palm while his lips grazed her naked back, licking and sucking at her velvety soft skin like she was dessert. "We have to hurry," she whispered, her body shivering as he mercilessly fucked her with his fingers.

Rick smiled against her skin, because as much as he enjoyed seeing her squirm, he was sure that wouldn't be a problem. And that became even clearer as she bent over the table in front of them and he pulled up her dress from behind, grinding her against him, leaving a wet spot on his jeans. And he was so turned on, he couldn't be sure whether they came from her or himself.

"Rick…" Michonne whispered. She placed her hand over his, guiding his long fingers deeper inside her. The smacking sound of his lips on her skin, the way he smelled of a summer day with a hint of the wine on his lips, the feeling of his bulge pressed between her cheeks - her senses were going haywire. She could feel herself close to an orgasm, his fingers expertly sending her to the edge, though she took great pleasure in rubbing her own clit to get her there faster. "Shit," she breathed, her eyes squeezing shut as a tiny wave of ecstasy washed over her.

He felt her warm nectar coat his hand, and he withdrew from inside her, sensually sucking it from his fingers for the second time that night. Thinking about how he couldn't wait to get home and properly taste her once they had all the time in the world. But for now, this would do just fine, considering his dick was practically bursting out of his jeans. "You ready?" he murmured against her ear, his tongue making another appearance, licking her skin as he spoke.

"Yes," she answered quickly. She lifted one knee onto the table, giving him better access to her opening from the back, hoping it would incite him to get his pants off faster. She had been ready since the day they started this stupid bet. "Please."

"Jesus," Rick whispered at the sight, biting at his bottom lip. He palmed her perfect, luscious ass with one hand as he rubbed at the erection in his pants with the other, all while staring down her juicy pussy. He needed to compose himself if he had any chance of not exploding the second he was inside her. But it was a wonderfully agonizing feeling, wanting this woman so badly he could hardly contain himself.

Hurriedly, he unbuckled his belts and unbuttoned his jeans, letting them fall to the floor, where his gun made a loud thud that probably drew attention from upstairs. But he didn't care enough to stop, maneuvering his boxers from his hardened length until they could slip to his feet, too. Out of habit, he stroked himself a couple more times, all while Michonne looked back at him, a sly smirk on her face as she watched him. She'd won and she knew it; it showed. But so did he, because he had every intention of enjoying the shit out of this.

Rick touched his fingers to her pussy one more time, making sure that she was good and wet, and he didn't waste any time sliding his thick cock inside her. They both let out audaciously loud moans, a consequence of two people who hadn't fucked in far too long. And Michonne immediately clenched her walls around him, pulling him in deeper, and he couldn't take it, pulling out just as quickly as he'd gotten in. On his second try, he took his time, gliding the tip against her opening until she begged him to stop.

"Rick," she whined, "please." She let out a sigh of both pleasure and surprise when he indulged her and then indulged _in_ her, pushing into her tight pussy until his scrotum was knocking on her thighs. Her toes locked as he filled her up and then slowly pulled back out, commencing with long strokes that made her want to howl with delight. She could feel every inch of him, down to the veins as he slid through her wet walls. "Fuck," she moaned, unsure whether she wanted to even tell him to pick up the pace. This might've been all she could handle after two sexless weeks.

But Rick was already headed that way, squeezing her ass in his hands as his thrusts quickened, hypnotized by the way her cheeks would jiggle each time his hips connected with them. Sometimes he couldn't believe he'd gone his whole life without an ass that moved like this; it somehow made sex with her even better, which he didn't think was possible after their first time together. His tempo gradually increased every other minute until he was pounding into her with thrusts that had the boxes of wine rattling in sync with the two of them. He was holding onto Michonne's hips like they were handlebars and she was the ride of his life. The slap of their skin was eventually drowned out by the sound of her guttural moans, and all of it only made him go faster and harder.

" _God_ ," Michonne was whimpering as he fucked her like there was no tomorrow. She was bent over the table, her tits hanging out of her dress and slapping the cool surface as she tried to grip the edge for balance. Though all she wanted to do was scream out loud so that everyone knew how good she was getting it down there in that basement. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Rick."

He couldn't respond with anything but a series of grunts, continuing in and out with the steady rhythm of a drum. She was so wet, and so was he for that matter, they already had cum dripping onto the floor. The smell of their sex pervaded the already dank air of the basement, while he could hear the footsteps of guests above them. He wondered if anyone could hear them - Michonne's unabashed moans mixed in with his groans, the sopping sound of his dick relentlessly pumping in and out of her, or her ass repeatedly slapping against his thighs. Because it all sounded so loud to him; his senses, like Michonne's, were in overdrive, and he was in love with everything about it.

That familiar orgasmic feeling was starting to overtake Michonne, and as much as she wanted this to last, she couldn't stop it from coming. His stroke was so good, he had her legs shaking, her face pressed against the table as she whimpered through the unbearable pleasure, but she simply could not take any more. She contracted herself around him one more time, that wonderful tingling starting in her knees and coursed through her body, exploding in her core and it didn't stop until it reached her arms and fingers, even her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut, drowning in the sensation of an absolutely sublime climax. She felt drunk, her body limp with satisfaction as she felt her fluids dripping down between her thighs.

Rick's heavy breaths turned to sighs of relief at the moment he knew Michonne was taken care of, and quite well by the looks of things. He always forced himself to stay in control until the second she came, and then he would go with her. This was no different, his thrusts grinding to a slow halt, his hands gripping her delectable ass as his eyes rolled up to the ceiling, and he erupted with a final, delighted grunt as his cum filled her up, leaving something of a mess behind. But with his heart beating out of his chest, and the entire lower half of his body wanting to collapse, he felt like he'd just died and gone to a heaven where only the two of them existed and nothing else mattered.

"God… damn," Michonne sighed, hating to feel Rick pull out of her, but knowing she needed the interlude. Exhausted, she picked herself up from the table, and turned to face him, pulling him in for a kiss before they could start to, or at least attempt to, clean themselves up. She locked her arms around his neck and planted her fingers in his sweaty hair because she didn't want to let him go, and not because she could barely stand up straight. But for that reason, too. Her lips claimed his, her tongue slipping into his mouth, and the two of them passionately devoured one another as if they wouldn't get the chance to do it again in another few hours. Because why not?

They smiled at each other as they separated, and Rick attempted to fix Michonne's wandering headband, pulling it back into place from the top of her head. He was fairly certain they would be giving themselves away the second they set foot back upstairs - not only was he a sweaty mess, but Michonne had that after-fuck glow that would be quite telling under regular lights. "Let's just stay here forever," he quietly suggested, twirling one of her locs between his fingers.

She knew he was joking about wanting them to physically stay in that basement forever, but figuratively speaking, she did hope they stayed in this exact place for the rest of their lives. The place where they had _fun_ , making ridiculous bets and defiling random rooms in their friends' homes. Wanting each other so badly that it was maddening to be apart for even a matter of days. Happily, stupidly, utterly in love. "That's fine with me," she agreed with a grin, her lips landing on his once more. "So long as we're still clear that I won?"

Rick playfully rolled his eyes as he turned to retrieve his pants. But he couldn't help but laugh, because it was hard to pretend that he didn't love having a woman that challenged him in every way. "You did win," he admitted, pretending to still be belligerent about it. And sure, he might've lost this bet, but he knew he'd already won, long before any wagers were made. "This time."


End file.
